My Place In This World
by HeadGirl91
Summary: Waking up in the future was not what he expected to happen. He felt like Buck Rogers. His one consolation, he supposed, was that he had only woken up in the 21st Century, instead of the 25th... although he's not sure why that's any better. Part of my Placesverse. Missing scenes from "I Know Places" told from Steve Rogers's POV.
1. For Now

_Another side story! This one will be 5 chapters long (all being well) and be missing moments from "I Know Places", as told from Steve Rogers's point of view. Reading "I Know Places" is necessary for reading this fic, I'm afraid!_

* * *

 **For Now**

Steve was so overwhelmed. He didn't really know what to do with himself. He spent most of his time in an "old-fashioned" gym, just to make himself feel a little more comfortable.

The last thing he could remember was cold.

Cold. Metal. Crunch. Peggy.

Peggy.

He shook his head, getting his attention back to the bag in front of him. Bucky had always told him that there was no use dwelling on missed opportunity. You'd already missed it, dwell on it and you may miss other things.

Waking up in the future was not what he expected to happen. He felt like Buck Rogers. He loved that comic strip when he was a kid, but it all felt a little too real for him right now. His one consolation, he supposed, was that he had only woken up in the 21st Century, instead of the 25th... although he's not sure why that's any better.

Things were so different in this world. He kept thinking of it as a different world. It felt as if it was some weird alternate dimension; something dreamed up in abstract science fiction novels.

The 'history' Bridget tried to catch him up on just felt like the back story to some new fictional universe.

Bridget.

The small, dark haired, young woman seemed like the only real thing in this alternate reality he'd found himself in.

It was strange. Technically, she was only about two years younger than he was, but, at the same time, he was over sixty years older. It gave him a headache to think about.

But she was genuinely lovely. She didn't treat him like a hero, or like a lab experiment, or like he was stupid for not knowing things. She was patient, honest, and had no issue being sarcastic with him, which he rather enjoyed. Other agents seemed to walk on their toes around him, as if expecting him to break down or perhaps just break things.

A short succession of beeps came from within the confines of his gym bag and he grabbed a towel, wiping his face and hands with it before diving into his bag to retrieve his cell phone. He had quickly gotten used to the thing. He'd picked up new things pretty quickly before he had the serum injected, but, with the serum enhancing every part of him, he now picked up new things at a truly amazing rate.

He had heard older people – which was odd to think, since he had been born before most of those people – complaining about 'young' peoples' addiction to cell phones. However, Steve didn't see what was so bad about it. You could keep in touch with people so easily. And with everything that had happened and all the people he had lost, keeping in touch with people he cared about just seemed like a good thing.

Not that he had many people to keep in touch with at the minute. Bridget was pretty much the only person he called or texted. They texted back and forth several times a day, more if she had to do paperwork, which he quickly learned that she loathed. There had been a few days when she was on mission that she couldn't contact him, and it was then that he had learned just how dependent on her he had become. Not just for what she could teach him, but for her company. Three days without hearing from her and he had missed her like crazy.

And it was crazy. It had been a month since he had woken up. A month since he had met her. And yet, he felt like he had known her forever.

Steve looked down at his cell and saw that he had a text from Bridget.

 _Hey. Bossman gone to see the boyfriend. Well officially hes gone to get a sitrep from the agents there. Like he cant do that over the phone lol. So I am free for rest of day. You busy?_

Steve smiled.

 _Well,_ he texted back. _I was planning on counting the tiles in my kitchen, but as long as nothing better comes along, I guess I can hang out with you…_

She replied quickly.

 _Oh well, that sounds like fun. Im sorry to drag you away from your thrilling day. I suppose youll just have to put up with me… well, me and several dvds. I decided you need a moviecation rogers! You have a dvd player right?_

 _I do. I've not used it yet, though._

 _That will soon change my friend. Be there in about an hour ok? Gotta go home and change and grab dvds._

 _Ok. See you later._

* * *

Bridget, true to her word, was at his apartment exactly an hour later. He had had time to get home, shower, and make sure his apartment was clean. That was a habit left over from childhood. His ma was very house-proud. It always did well to make a good impression, she had said, whether you knew your guests well, or not.

"Hey!" she grinned, as he opened the door. She was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt depicting a cat with a grumpy expression. Her hair was loose and hung in waves just past her shoulders.

He smiled softly and let her in. She had been to his apartment before. If they wanted to hang out and didn't want to go anywhere, they had used his apartment a couple of times. She was against him coming to her apartment for two reasons, she had told him. Those reasons were Kate McAshton and Darren Wilson; her roommates.

"They're so nosy!" she had complained. "They'll find any reason to be around and just be embarrassing. Trust me, we're better off away."

Bridget set down her bag on the couch and rifled through it, bringing out some DVDs.

"Okay," she said. "I thought we'd start in some sort of semi-chronological order. So I brought Sunset Boulevard, A Streetcar Named Desire, and On the Waterfront." She looked at the covers. "I haven't actually seen any of these, which would probably get me majorly judged by most people. They're supposedly must-see classics," she told him.

"Well, I'd be the last person to judge," he told her, shrugging.

She smiled. "Next time, we're doing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, The King and I, and Breakfast at Tiffany's, which are some of my favorite movies of all time. And then you can have a turn showing me some movies you like," she suggested. Then she paused before amending, "Although, if you try and make me sit through Gone with the Wind, you and I will no longer be friends."

"You don't like Gone with the Wind?" he asked, surprised.

"That thing is like four hours long!" Bridget exclaimed. "By the intermission, I was thinking it was never going to end! There was still about two hours left! I thought I was going to die."

"Why did you keep watching?" Steve asked, laughing.

"It's Kate's favorite film. She's watched it like a hundred times. She's read the book so much that the pages are falling out of her copy. She made Darren and I watch it once. Just once. I swore that I'd chew my own arm off before I went through that again." Bridget looked up at him, eyes wide, as if she was attempting to share with him the horror that she had felt.

He laughed. "I promise no Gone with the Wind."

"Good," she said, decisively. "'Cos I don't want to think about how you'd explain to Coulson why I'd chewed my own arm off."

"Wait, why would I be explaining?" Steve asked.

"Because Coulson's 'disappointed in you' look makes me want to cry," she explained. "You look tougher than me, you can take it."

* * *

He had good days and he had bad days.

On the good days, he felt grateful to have this. A second chance.

On the bad days, days when he woke up feeling cold, remembering Bucky's hand just inches from his own before the fall, seeing the vast expanse of ice ahead of him as he struggled to put the plane down… he picked up his cell phone and made a call.

Bridget was his person.

He knew she wasn't Peggy, or Bucky.

She didn't have to be. He didn't want her to be.

He didn't have to define it. Didn't want to define it right now.

He trusted her.

He knew that after a really horrible day, he could talk to her for a couple of minutes and instantly feel better about the world.

He wasn't sure what to think about that, and honestly, it was probably better if he just didn't think about it at all. It was too confusing.

It was better to let things be.

For now.


	2. Chance

_This chapter happens concurrently with chapter 12 of I Know Places._

* * *

 **Chance**

Leaving Bridget's side was one of the hardest things Steve had ever had to do. But as he looked at her peacefully sleeping face, he felt fear and doubt creeping up on him; he was dressed and out of the door before he even knew what he was doing.

What was he thinking, kissing her? Spending the night with her? What right did he have to feel this way about her? Bridget, who was his best friend in this time, was so good and so… She didn't need to get messed up in all this… with him. What kind of life could they have? She was just a normal girl; albeit a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He was a super soldier born at the end of the First World War who had been frozen in ice for nearly seventy years.

And what if it had all been a mistake? What if he went back to her and she told him that she didn't really feel anything for him?

Steve knew that would break him.

He didn't know when he had fallen in love with Bridget Benson. He hadn't noticed it happening. He had been so caught up in spending time with her, enjoying her company, that it just seemed to have happened without him realizing it. He hadn't been looking for it; didn't particularly _want_ it. Life would be easier if he didn't. Loving Bridget, especially _now,_ was just so complicated.

Bridget was his _friend._ If all this went to shit and she didn't feel the same way, or even if it just didn't work out, Steve wasn't sure what he would do without her. If things got too awkward for them to see each other… well Steve wasn't at all sure if he could cope with that. He had clung to Bridget in an attempt to keep himself sane in this strange world that he had woken up in.

Losing her would hurt as much as losing Bucky. Probably more.

And that realization scared him.

He had known Bucky practically his whole life. When Bucky had fallen from the train, his fingertips just a hairsbreadth away from Steve's own, he felt like his world was ending; like someone had ripped his heart out and laid it out before him.

If he lost Bridget, he didn't think he'd survive it.

Later, she texted him, but he couldn't even look at it, fear crippling him. When she called him, he had to leave the room; the wanting to answer the phone, to hear her voice, and the fear of the can of worms that he would open if he did warred with each other.

He went to see Thor and Loki off to Asgard with the rest of the team. Bridget was there and he couldn't even look at her, too afraid of what he would see, or what he would do if he did.

When he got home that night, he didn't sleep a wink.

* * *

Clint Barton was the last person Steve expected to see when he answered the knock on the door at 6am the next morning.

"Agent Barton," Steve said, surprise creeping into his voice.

"We need to talk." The words were clipped, with an edge. Steve immediately felt a little wary.

"Come in." He stepped aside to let Barton into his apartment.

Barton came inside but made no move to go further into the apartment, instead deciding that here was as good a place as any to say what he came to say.

"I know," he began. "About you and Bridget."

Steve tensed and looked down at the floor.

"Bridget has always been there when I needed her," Barton continued. "And last night was the first time she has allowed me to be there for her. You see, she is an amazing person. She wants to be everyone's shoulder to cry on, to let everyone talk at her, and just make everyone feel like they are the most important person, in that moment. But she keeps her own feelings to herself. She takes on everybody else's problems, but doesn't want to burden anyone with hers. And believe me; I had to get her very, very drunk before any of this came out."

Steve knew that Barton had not taken his eyes off of him since he had opened the door.

"She loves you."

Steve's head came up, shocked, and finally met Barton's gaze.

"She loves you," he repeated. "And right now she needs you and you left her. And she is just so confused and hurting. She is grieving and I want to be there for her, but I can't because I'm grieving too and it hurts too fucking much. I can't do it. Besides, all she wants is you."

Barton took a breath. "I'm going away for a while. I just needed to make sure that Bridget was going to be okay while I was gone. Just… do me a favor, Captain… Next time she calls, answer the phone. I know you feel the same way about her, because you have the same look on your face as she did last night."

He turned and headed back for the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

"I just lost the love of my life, Captain. Don't lose yours."

* * *

Steve agonized over what to do.

He wanted to call her himself; wanted to do something, anything. But he literally couldn't gather up the courage to do anything. He spent most of the day watching the DVDs that Bridget had last brought around, ending with what she had claimed was her favorite movie of all time: The Princess Bride.

The movie hit a cord with him in many ways. Some of the lines were especially valid.

 _"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."_

" _Death cannot stop true love; it can only delay it for a while."_

" _You truly love each other and so you might have been truly happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, no matter what the story books say."_

Okay, he knew that the villain said that last one, but it's true. Not everyone has the opportunity to be happy. But if, like Barton had said, Bridget truly loved him back, why was he delaying this? They had a chance to be happy, with each other, and he was digging his heels in. And why? Why was he putting this off?

He knew the answer. He just didn't like it.

Peggy.

It had only been a few months since he had lost her; lost his opportunity to be happy with her. And then Bridget came into his life, so like and yet different from Peggy in so many ways. Peggy had been sophisticated, where Bridget had an unrefined quality that just captivated Steve. Yet, they were both strong, independent women who didn't seem to be scared of anything.

But how could he love Bridget when just months ago, he had loved Peggy with all his heart?

He didn't understand.

Just then, his text tone went off. He looked at it this time. It was Bridget, just as he had assumed it was.

 _Hey. Can you meet me at the gym tonight? At 7? Its really important Steve. Please be there. Xxx_

Remembering his conversation with Barton, Steve resolved to go.

* * *

He got to the gym early. He had been there for around fifteen minutes before Bridget showed up. Neither of them said a word for around a minute.

"I'm moving to D.C."

This was not what Steve had expected in the slightest, and it came like a punch in the gut. "You're moving to D.C.?" he blurted. "Not because of..?" he didn't really know how to finish that sentence.

"What? No." Bridget shook her head. "It's got nothing to do with what happened. It's Fury." She sighed, walking over to the boxing ring and sitting on the ledge, leaning against the ropes. Steve followed her, sitting at her side, the warmth radiating off of her, making him want to lean in, but knowing he wouldn't dare. "He's gonna be in D.C. full time for the next God knows how long and he wants me there. After..." She trailed off, her voice breaking slightly. "After Coulson, he wants to keep me close."

Bridget leant her head on Steve's shoulder. He wasn't sure how to react. He had been expecting her to be mad at him, but it seemed like she had no fight left in her. She seemed utterly defeated and Steve just didn't know what to do. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

"Hill told me I was the next Coulson." Bridget paused, and then said in a small voice "I don't want to be the next Coulson, Steve."

Steve could sense that she was about to cry and put his arm around her, pulling her closer, without thinking. All he knew was that he wished that he could make this better for her. He knew that she had been grieving for Coulson, Barton had even told him as much, but he had been too caught up in his own stupid problems when he should have been there. He felt like the worst man on the planet.

"If I'm the next Coulson, then that means that he's gone." Bridget sniffed, trying to hold back her sobs. "I mean, I know he's gone, but isn't that just the proverbial nail in the coffin?" She laughed humorlessly.

"And then there's you." The turnaround made Steve blink. "You and your stupid manners and your stupid face and your stupid laugh that makes me feel all warm and stupid inside. And I should be mourning Coulson and picking up the pieces of my life, but I can't because I hate that your stupid face is there in my brain all the time and I remember your stupid lips and how it felt to kiss you and… I can't, Steve. I can't."

She tore herself away from Steve and raced out of the gym as fast as she could, not even sparing him a backwards glance.

* * *

Steve walked back to his apartment, numbly, hoping the cool evening air would help to clear his head.

He turned over what Bridget had said. She hadn't really left him any room to talk. He wasn't sure what he would have said, anyway.

But she made it clear that she had feelings for him, even if she was too overwhelmed right now to deal with them.

He slept fitfully that night, his dreams not being at all kind to him.

He wondered if it would be different if Bridget were here, beside him. If that human contact, knowing someone was near who loved him, who he loved in return, would keep the nightmares at bay, let him sleep more peacefully.

He thought about what it would be like, to know that he had a future with somebody.

It isn't anything he had really thought of before. When he was younger, he was so sickly that the doctors hadn't expected him to live to an old age. Then, when he was Captain America, he thought that his chances of living through the war would be slim.

Now, he had a chance to live to a ripe old age… and maybe a woman to share it with…

It was still early, but if he had gotten to know Natasha Romanov at all, he knew that she would be awake.

"Hey, Agent Romanov?" he said as she answered the call. "I need a favor."

* * *

Having gotten the location of Bridget's new apartment from Romanov, Steve got on his motorcycle and headed straight there. From what Romanov had been able to gather, by the time he got there, Bridget would have been maybe an hour at the most.

He stood outside the door for five minutes, thinking through what he was going to say. This had to be perfect, he knew.

Finally, Steve gathered all the courage that he had and knocked on the door. He knew that this was the right decision. This was his chance to be happy. And he was taking it.


	3. Something Good

_I slipped a small Friends reference in there. See if you can spot it!_

 _This chapter takes place at multiple places during chapters 14-16 of I Know Places (before and during the events of The Winter Soldier)._

* * *

 **Something Good**

Steve isn't sure when it happened, but since getting romantically involved with Bridget Benson, Natasha Romanov seemed to have subtly slid into the 'best friend' position in his life.

Steve still counts Bridget as his best friend, and also as the love of his life, but Natasha was his best platonic friend. Judging by what he knew of today's society, Steve was pretty sure that a person needed that. To have your partner and your only friend be the same person was pretty limiting and, for the pair of them, lonely when one or the other would be sent out on missions. Bridget had Kate and Darren, who had been her best friends since she was eleven years old, and in the absence of his childhood friend, Natasha seemed to take it upon herself to fill the gap.

"So, I feel like we should be drinking beer and complaining about our love lies," Natasha announced as she sprawled out on the couch in Steve and Bridget's apartment, an entire pizza sitting in the box on her knees. Steve had his own pizza, sitting by his chair, as he tossed Natasha a can of coke on his way back from the kitchen. Bridget was gone on a mission and Steve, not quite used to the loneliness, had invited Natasha round.

"Why?" Steve asked, taking his seat and popping his own can of coke.

Natasha shrugged, picking up a slice of pizza. "Isn't that what guys do when their girlfriend goes out of town?"

Steve shrugged. "I have no idea. If you want to complain about your love life, though, feel free."

Natasha snorted. "What love life? I'm just living vicariously through yours."

That was true. Natasha seemed to have an unnatural interest in Steve and Bridget's relationship. She claimed that the whole set up interested her, but they never managed to get more of an explanation than that.

"So... what's the plan?"

Steve looked at her, blankly. "The plan?"

Natasha nodded, choosing another slice of pizza delicately. "Yeah, the plan. You've been together for, what, two years now? You're still going strong. You've got to have some sort of plan for the future."

Steve shrugged, not looking at Natasha. "I don't think we're the type of people to plan our relationship. We have to plan so much for work and saving the world stuff... We'll just let things go on the way they are. Living in the moment..."

Natasha hummed. "Afraid to ask?"

"Could not be more terrified," Steve confirmed.

"Why are you so scared to ask her about this?" Natasha asked, incredulously. "She's your girlfriend and you've been _living together_ for the last two years!"

"That's why!" Steve groaned, shoving his hand through his hair. "Things have been good. We've been happy. I've never had a relationship last even half this long. I never thought I could have a relationship like this. She's my everything, Natasha. And what if we talk and it changes things?"

"I think that's the whole point, Steve," Natasha pointed out.

"You know what I mean. What if it changes things for the worse? What if we talk and she doesn't want to get married or she doesn't want children or..."

Natasha interrupted him. "Okay, seriously? You have not had any sort of conversation about your future? At all? Not even the 'kids' talk?"

Steve shook his head, deflating. "Well, we had the 'contraception so there are no kids while we're still running dangerous missions' talk. But that's it. I don't think a contraception talk easily segues into a children talk."

Natasha literally facepalmed. "Are you kidding me, Steve? That was the perfect time to have that conversation!" She sighed. "You know, I'm beginning to think that it's not just you. I think you and Benson are completely hopeless at all this relationship stuff and how you even got together, never mind how you made it this far, is completely beyond me."

Steve blinked and looked every inch like a lost puppy. Natasha sighed. She was going to have to take this into her own hands.

* * *

Steve walked towards the back of the quinjet and tested the comms.

"Secure channel seven?"

"Channel seven secure," Natasha confirmed as she checked her weapons. She looked out the corner of her eye at Steve. "You got any plans this Saturday?" she asked.

"No," he frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," she began. "I know this lovely Italian place. Gives out free champagne when a couple gets engaged there."

Steve sighed. "Seriously? This is not the time." He walked towards the opening bay door.

"She's not gonna wait around forever, Steve!" Natasha called.

Steve shook his head as he jumped out of the jet.

Several minutes and about ten unconscious mercenaries later, Natasha parachuted in, landing next to Steve.

"Okay, how about you make her dinner... wait, no that's a terrible idea. How about you get take-out, set it up all fancy with candles?" Natasha continued, as if they had never been interrupted by Steve jumping out of a quinjet without a parachute.

"How about you secure the engine room, and then organize my love life?" Steve directed.

"I'm multi-tasking!"

* * *

Natasha slouched in the front seat of the car, one foot on the dashboard. "So tell me," she said. "Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?"

Steve looked at her briefly, before putting his eyes back on the road. "Nazi Germany," he told her. "And we're borrowing, so get your feet off the dash."

Natasha complied, an amused smile gracing her features.

"So, I have a question for you," she said. "Which you do not have to answer, though by not answering you will, in fact, have answered..."

"What?" he snapped, impatiently.

"Am I only the third woman you've ever kissed?"

Natasha smirked unapologetically as he glanced at her.

"I swear," Steve said, eventually. "Everyone seems to have this idea of me as this paragon of virtue. I did occasionally have dates before I joined the army. And I toured with the USO girls for months. I did get some action before I turned twenty-five, you know."

"Just asking." Natasha shrugged. "You seem very reluctant to discuss your love life. Wondered whether it's just because you didn't have a lot of experience with women before Benson." She grinned. "You know Tony's convinced that you're still a virgin?"

Steve choked. "Seriously? After all this time?"

"He's convinced that you and Benson are waiting 'til marriage and no one can convince him otherwise." Natasha eyed him. "And speaking of..."

"Nat, drop it."

"Come on, Steve." She twisted to face him more. "We need to talk about this. The pair of you bottling up all your feelings like this is not healthy. Just... Just promise me you'll think about it? Ok?"

Steve sighed. "I'll think about it," he promised.

* * *

Steve wandered down a corridor in the underground base, contemplating the last few days. Bucky was alive. HYDRA was in S.H.I.E.L.D. Everything that he worked for, had died to prevent, had happened anyway. HYDRA were going to kill thousands of people because there had just been too many heads for him to cut off.

On the other hand, Fury was still alive, Natasha was mending, and Bridget was okay. Plus, he had confessed kissing Natasha and Bridget wasn't mad at him.

He didn't deserve that woman.

It was a thought that came to him often. He would look at her and realize that she was better than anything he ever thought he would deserve and some deep, dark part of him was convinced that one day, she would realize that she was too good for him and leave.

He hadn't even realized where he had been walking before he stopped outside a door and discovered his feet had taken him to the room Natasha was staying in. He took a breath and knocked, softly.

Natasha answered and he spoke before he could talk himself out of it.

"I lied, before," he blurted out. Natasha raised an eyebrow and he continued. "Well, I didn't lie, but it wasn't entirely the whole truth."

"What are you talking about, Steve?" she asked.

"It's not just my fear of changing things that's stopping me from talking about things with Bridget, not entirely." He took a breath. "I'm scared. I'm scared that one day she'll look at me and realize that I'm not the person she thought I was. She's going to realize one day that she's too good for me; she's too good a person to be with me. What if, one day, I decide to stop being Captain America, or if the serum somehow stops working, and it's the fact that I'm Captain America that she loves? I-"

Steve didn't realize that he was rambling, getting slightly more hysterical with every word, until Natasha slapped him across the face. He blinked, gathering his bearings for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he got out, before Natasha put her arms around him and hugged him.

"You are good enough," she murmured to him. "And I don't ever want to hear you say differently ever again. You deserve to be happy Steve, and Bridget makes you happy. And you make her happy. The way that she looks at you, sometimes... it's as if you hung the moon. She doesn't care that you're Captain America. She cares that you're _Steve._ Would you love her any less if she wasn't a mutant? If she decided to stop being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?"

Steve balked. "Of course not!"

"Then why would you think that she would love you any less if you weren't Captain America anymore? She loves _you,_ Steve... And if you asked her to marry you, there is not a doubt in my mind that she would say yes in a heartbeat."

Steve held her tight.

"Thank you, Nat."

* * *

Natasha popped her head into the hospital room and Steve smiled in greeting.

"Hey," she said, coming into the room. "Sorry I couldn't come by sooner. Got a lot of stuff to answer for, I guess."

The corner of Steve's mouth crooked up. "Yes," he agreed. "Yes you do."

Natasha frowned, before her eyes lit up in understanding. "You asked her." Steve nodded. "She said yes?"

Steve raised his eyebrows. "I thought there wasn't a doubt in your mind that she'd say yes?" he teased.

"I wanted to hear it from you," she protested, but she came over to the bed and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you," she said. "Congratulations."

Steve hugged her back and wondered what he had done to deserve the people in his life.

Something good, apparently.


End file.
